Page 86 of The Cabin

I am amazed at how comfortable he makes me feel. I am shocked that I willingly and eagerly did dirty things with him. He emboldens me, gives me power and the chance to build my confidence. The way he cares for me when we’re together like that is truly wonderful. It’s getting me in deep, deep shit, but it is so goddamn wonderful.

All of that comfort and confidence flushes right down the drain when I think about initiating and putting myself out there for him. I can bloom for him because I am one hundred percent sure that’s what he wants. The moment his eyes change, I have no worries. I am simply excited and turned on and giggly.

And Iknowthat it would take one singular breath of courage before he would devour me. That the second I shift in his direction he’d be on me in a heartbeat. He’s shown me that. Logically, I know that. But every time I think about it, my brain just yells, ‘Those were flukes! He was bored and lonely! He’ll get sick of you. He’s way out of your league! You have no business asking that man to bed! If he does say yes, it’s because he’s trying to spare your feelings! Because he feels too bad to say no.’

How do I get rid of those thoughts?

Buzz buzz.

The only people who would be texting me are my parents. OrmaybeCruz. But I just saw him, and I just talked to them.

It takes me a minute to figure out where I put my phone. I moved it in my putzing like seven different times. Thankfully the reminder vibrate goes off and I hear it coming from the drawer of the bedside table.

Whipping it out, I frown.

Grayson: Hey

I forgot I even had Grayson’s number. He gave it to me before we left in case we got separated. Why is he texting me? I’ve been horrible. And now a coward.

Sol: Is everything okay?

Immediate typing dots.

Grayson: How are you?

Is he seriously texting me to ask howI’mdoing? I should be texting him that!

Sol: I’m okay. You?

Grayson: Rough day.

I should see if he wants to talk about it. I should ask him to meet up and let him vent. I should support him. I’d rather rip every single hair out of my body one by one than face him right now. But, I probably should.

More typing dots.

I wait, but nothing comes. Shit. Okay. Ummmm.

Sol: Do you wanna talk about it? We can —

*Knock, knock, knock*

I freeze, then unfreeze to do a quick survey to make sure I’m wearing pants, and then freeze again. It’s either a stranger trying to kill me or Grayson. I don’t know which one I’d rather it be…

“Sol? You in there?” Goddamnit.

“One sec!”

I am sure I resemble a street cat who gets into fights for a living, but I don’t have time to fix that.

Opening the door, I paste a smile on my face, attempting to trick both Grayson and myself into thinking that everything is hunky dory.

His eyes soften with what I would describe as relief before darkening as they travel right down to my chest. I’m not wearing a bra, and I watch the realization light up his face.

He clears his throat and shakes his head, bringing his gaze back up to meet mine. “Hey. Uh. Shit. I don’t even know how to ask this.” His hand is wringing the back of his neck nervously. I’m immediately in a panic, because that’s how my brain works.

“What’s up?” That sounded casual, right?

He gives a subtle groan into the side of the door jamb before gritting his teeth and standing up straight. “My lawyer needs to talk to us both together.”

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